The End of Things
by Daria234
Summary: Sam and Dean meet a 19-year-old John Connor from Terminator:TSSC? They find they have a LOT in common. SLASH Sam/Dean and Sam/John Connor


Written for comment_fic on livejournal

"That. I want exactly that."

Those were the last words he said to them. Because as soon as he was alone in the room, John looked at their stuff, and realized how wrong he had been. Then John Connor disappeared.

Which he was good at.

John had been alone for awhile. His mother had gone two years ago, the day after he turned seventeen. Cameron had malfunctioned badly, and he had to blow her head off, but he didn't do it in time to save Sarah.

He kept up his training. He read everything he could on strategy. He read all the high-tech blogs and occasionally performed industrial sabotage in the hopes that it would delay Judgement day. So one day, when he saw a man coming at him, looking like a predator, he shot at him. Just a leg shot, but the bullet did nothing and the thing leaped at him.

Okay, thought John, guess they learned how to feel bloodlust. Great.

And he lobbed a grenade. The metal stopped.

But a closer look, to shoot the chip in the head, revealed that it wasn't metal at all.

Shit.

Two men came out of the shadows and took a sword to it. Then they looked at John.

"Are you okay, man?" the tall one asked.

"Dude, did we hear a grenade? Who carries a grenade?" said the other.

John decided to run. But these guys were fast, too. And good at hand to hand. Really good. If there were one of them, John could have won.

But they worked in perfect sychrony, and managed to pin him to the floor.

"Talk to us, man. Are you a hunter? If you're human, you don't have to be afraid of us."

"Unless you're a psycho."

"Shut up, Dean."

"Wait - if I'm human? You know - you know someone who's not human?"

"Um-"

"Was that thing that attacked me human?"

"No."

John's body relaxed and he closed his eyes in relief. "What was it?"

"Trust me, dude, you're better off not knowing. Now tell us why you carry around an arsenal. Not that I'm not impressed. Because I am." Dean gave him a little smile.

"You tell me first. What are you doing? What's a hunter?"

Dean looked at him, hard and skeptical. Finally, he said, "Okay. We're trying to stop the apocalypse. And we also kill evil, soulless things that want to hurt people. Crazy enough for you?"

"He's just kidding -" Sam started.

"No. I believe you. In fact, I've been doing that my whole life. I just didn't know there were others."

Dean and Sam glanced at each other. "Explains his skills. He did his best to use non-lethal force against us."

"And you did the same to me," said John, "So let me go, and we'll figure it out together."

The brothers took their arms down. Sam asked, "You've really been doing this alone your whole life?"

"With my mom. With a couple others for awhile. But now just me."

"That sucks," observed Dean.

"What sucks is knowing people you love died to protect you," John said.

Sam and Dean both looked away from each other. Sam finally said, "You can come back to our motel room. We'll show you some things."

"Or maybe I can teach you some things."

"Humble, isn't he?" Dean said.

But when they got to the motel, they were too tired to talk, so they agreed to go over information and tactics in the morning. He stared at the boys as they went in and out of the shower and put on clean clothes, as they offered him beer and pie. Finally, Dean turned off the TV and said, "Dude, what is with the staring?"

"Sorry. I haven't actually - been around people in a few months." Shit. What kind of leader could he possibly turn out to be? There were machines with better social skills than his.

"That's okay," said Sam. "Look, if you want to - join us - "

A long time since an invitation like that. "Sure."

"Hope you like to watch, dude, because I'm going first."

"Shut up, Dean" Sam said.

"Bitch."

Sam gave him a stern look and Dean corrected himself, "I mean, bitch, sir." Sam had to smile. In a few mintues, Dean was tied up in dozens of knots, blindfolded, and being licked, pinched, and scratched all over by Sam.

"No fear, Dean" Sam whispered as he pushed into Dean with his fingers, "You don't have to do a thing. Right now you're thinking that the whole world needs you. That your courage will save them. That everyone's future rests on the strength of your shoulders. But right now, there is no world. Right now you are nobody's hero. You belong to me. You are just a plaything in my possession, nothing more. You are nothing. The world is nothing, and you are nothing, just the firing of nerve cells. Pleasure and pain, but besides that, you are nothing." Sam worked Dean into a frenzy, whispering in his ear the whole time, until Dean came and started sobbing in Sam's arms, nearly at the same time.

A few kisses and caresses later, and Sam untied Dean and left him to drift peacefully to sleep. But Sam was wide awake and walked over to John, and said, "Your turn. You see anything you'd like?"

John looked up at Sam, aroused and desperate but for some reason terrified. He finally found the words. "That. I want exactly that."


End file.
